


May 25th

by KimberlyLikesCherries



Series: The Path to Yellow [8]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Error’s chocolate is threatened, Event planning isn’t easy unless you’ve got half the town planning with you, Horror spooks, Hurt/Comfort, I hope, Memorial Day, Monster Lore that could apply to any story if you want it to, Nightmare learns how to make paper chains, Sans makes his family proud, Slow start but I promise it’s a good read, Snowdin becomes overwhelmingly purple for a whole day, Undyne probably surplexes a bolder somewhere, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyLikesCherries/pseuds/KimberlyLikesCherries
Summary: Requested by LuckythedragonetSans could never resist Papyrus, not for anything he really wanted. Starting a new holiday? Well, guess he’d have to be lazy some other time then.
Relationships: Dream/Sans(OC)/Nightmare, Error/Reaper, Horror/Dust (hinted), Ink/Blue (hinted), Papyrus & Berry(OC), Sans(OC) & Error, Sans(OC) & Papyrus, killer/cross, sans/sans
Series: The Path to Yellow [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706509
Comments: 58
Kudos: 52





	May 25th

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luckythedragonet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luckythedragonet/gifts).



> Lucky, I really hope this was what you were looking for. Sorry it took so long, dude/dudette.

Tracking days in the Underground was not an easy task in the slightest. It required a great deal of observation, patience, and generally more leg work than most were willing to put up with once someone realized that the Dump tended to gather similarly themed items from the Surface during certain times of the year.

The first to discover this pattern had been none other than a Temmie by the name of Bob who told his theory to a visiting friend of his called Shyren, who then told the resident ghost monster Napstablook, who then told his aspiring cousin who (a short time later) then went on to becoming the Underground’s singularly most popular robotic star named Mettaton; naturally, he told everyone else via cable TV.

Ofcorse after that news spread like wildfire throughout the populated caverns, and suddenly the Dump gained more visitors than ever before- all in the name of research. Suddenly all that weird junk had meaning to it, and Monsters were well known for their love of puzzles.

It was a new era, one where the second generation of trapped people began to admire a culture so different from their own; one they had only heard about in stories from their parents.

The first waterlogged calendar that had fallen down with the current had been akin to finding the holy grail, sending mixed feelings through the entire Underground as the year was finally revealed to elders and youngsters alike. A great many cried that day, having long lost track of time in their aging lives and realizing the pain of their loss was as fresh as the day they were imprisoned.

Now armed with names for these seasonal changes, younger monsters gathered around with theories of just what these things meant. The Librarby was a very new and busy place those days, erected for the sole purpose of housing any books found that miraculously survived the cool waters. Many put two and two together from such texts, and soon a great deal of holidays were uncovered and celebrated as accurately as they were understood- which wasn’t many; in fact, it was only the big ones like Christmas and Valentine’s Day which were really decoded in their entirety.

It was around that time that Sans “woke up” in the underground.

Even before his body snatching and subsequent fading memory, Sans had never been big on celebration of any sort; not even his own birthday if his journal was to be believed. Even now he never kept up well with important dates, instead leaving it to others to remind him when big events were coming up. That strategy never seemed to fail him much before. For Papyrus, however, Sans was always willing to make exceptions; so when his newly minted ten year old little brother came up to him with a fresh calendar in hand gifted to him by a well meaning Blue, wondering what Memorial Day was? Well, Sans made an exception- he planned ahead.

————————

“What are they doing?” Ink wondered, watching the usually more upbeat child solemnly color in paper triangle after paper triangle bearing the royal crest of the kingdom, which his brother Sans was carefully drawing out with the speed of someone who had done about thirty of these things already and had them down to an art form, so no he didn’t need your help, Ink; thank you very much.

Beside the Creator Blue shrugged, just as fascinate with the proceedings as his friend. “Whatever it is, they’ve been at it for a few days now. Sans even made Nightmare and the others promise to leave it alone.”

“...actually,” Ink tilted his head thoughtfully, “I think I can sort of remember Sans making me promise something like that too, but I can’t remember what his reason was now.”

Blue gestured at his scarf, “Maybe check that?”

Ink did a quick check and...”Bingo!” Blue crowded in closer to see, “Looks like they’re planning a holiday of some sort. Something called...Memory Day?”

Blue snorted and elbowed his friend teasingly, “Sounds like your sort of holiday, friend.”

Ink huffed, “I’m not that bad!”

“Really?” Blue asked wonderingly, “Then how did that taco taste yesterday?”

The Creator’s sockets widened with a bright yellow square and green diamond, “Uh...” He reached for his scarf again, which was smacked out of his hands by a smirking Blue, “It was...delicious?”

Blues smirk widened, “Told you so.”

“What?”

“We didn’t have tacos yesterday,” Sans piped up absently from his work at the kitchen table, “And it’s ‘Memorial Day,’ not whatever you just called it.”

Ink shot his giggling friend a sour glare, “You cheeky ass!”

“But Ink, I don’t have an ass as you very well know!” Blue objected with a pleased chuckle.

Ink’s jaw slacked as he blushed, and Blue’s teasing glint fell into a confused stare before exploding into blushing shock.

“Y-you’ve been looking?!”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it! My sockets just wandered down and-!”

“Wandered your ass,” Dust shouted from the couch, “Horror and I have been placing bets on how many he’d sneak in before you caught him, Blue!”

“Like you have any room to talk!” Ink shouted back.

“And just what is that supposed to mean?!”

Sans sneered down at his doodles, silently judging them all for their disturbingly adorable obliviousness.

**“Come now,”** Nightmare purred into his neck vertebrae, **“We were not so different once.”**

Sans shot a side glance at his mate’s skull, unaffected by his sudden appearance, “Really? I distinctly recall a great deal of stalking and declarations of intent from you and your brother. In fact, if I try really hard, I can almost hear your exact words now. ‘I, Nightmare, Guardian of Negativity and the Great Tree, do now ask for the right to formally court-‘“ A tendril covered his mouth.

**“Okay, okay,”** Night hissed, **“Not so loud!”**

Sans smirked, pleased with himself.

“A-hem!” Both looked at the child sitting across from them, “I’m still here you know. Can you flirt some other time?”

Nightmare grumbled at the kid, pulling away from his mate with all the reluctance he thought he wasn’t showing. Sans gave him a pity pat on a tendril that had wound it’s way around the crook of his left arm.

“Where’s your other half?” He asked, making Nightmare huff down at him.

**“I really wish you wouldn’t call him that, but he’s back with mother.”**

Sans hummed in understanding, “Still trying to convince the villagers then?”

**“Indefinitely, I presume.”**

“I can still pop over and give them a good talking to-“

**“No. I don’t want you anywhere near those b-“** Nightmare’s teal light flicked over to the young skeleton across the way, **“-umbling fools. They might get ideas; fatal ones.”**

“The sort that Dream will pretend to be unhappy about?” Sans asked with a smirk. The guardian just smirked back, crossing his arms on top of the back of his mate’s chair.

A comfortable silence fell between the three as the scribbling of pencils and the ruckus of warring skeletons washed over them.

**“Any way I can help?”** Nightmare asked as Sans passed one of his finished triangles over to the waiting hand of his brother.

“Maybe later when we’re putting these up; unless you want to start on the paper chains for us.”

**“Paper chains?”** The guardian wondered.

Papyrus gasped, “You don’t know what paper chains are?!” He shot up from his chair, making it screech loudly against the floor, “Can I show him brother? Please?!”

Sans shot an amused look at his suddenly unsure mate, “I don’t see why not, bro. There’s only a few more flags left, so as long as you two stay on task I don’t mind taking care of the rest here.”

Papyrus cheered, rushing around the table to grab a very startled looking skeleton’s hand and pull the poor creature aware into the vowels of his room- no doubt to have Nightmare help him collect the piles of color paper the two had saved, scavenged, and begged off of unsuspecting friends over the better half of a year.

Horror was standing besides the chair Papyrus had been sitting in.

“Hello.” Sans greeted, forcing down a startled gasp. Horror nodded at him, looking at the various craft items strewn along the table’s surface.

“What are you up to?” Horror asked flatly, almost suspiciously if Sans hadn’t know any better.

“Makin’ decorations for that holiday I told you about. What about you?”

Horror frowned, “Holiday-? oh, right.” He blinked, “I wanted to ask if I could cook. It’s almost dinner time.”

Sans blinked and glanced over at the wall clock to the left of the wall in front of him, rubbing the back of his neck vertebrae, “That time already, huh? What were you wanting to make?”

“Spaghetti.”

Horror started to sweat under his stare, looking more and more unsure of himself as Sans contemplated his request.

Finally, Sans nodded. “Take Dust with you please. I’m pretty sure he and Ink are about to break my coffee table any moment now, and I’m rather fond of this one.”

Horror glanced over to his crush then turned back to Sans with a nod, walking away into the scene with eerily silent steps. Sans watched for a moment before turning back to his most recent flag, cursing quietly when he saw a line slashing through a half finished triangle. He sighed and reached for an eraser, glad that he’d had the forethought to do this is pencil instead of pen like he had wanted.

————————

He’d spoken to a great many Snowdin residents a few weeks prior to this moment, wanting to include the other inhabitants of his world in this tradition Papyrus wanted to start up. Unsurprisingly the older folks had been all for it, Grillby lighting the way as a leader and speaker for the retired and active soldiers in the area. Anyone who’d lost people to the Monster-Human War were welcome, as all monsters had been involved in some way with the military before being shoved behind a barrier; and any who’d known surviving monsters who died later on were welcome too.

Undyne had been especially involved once word spread through the ranks, having just lost Gerson to old age and practically begging to honor his memory in some way. It was no statue in a courtyard, but in her words, “Gerson wouldn’t have wanted that anyway.”

Sans woke up extra early with half the town; and when Papyrus woke up, the town was a flurry of purple and white banners, flags, paper chains, and a tree missing distinctive Gryftmas colors- instead covered in purple ornaments of all shapes and sizes, and silver tensile that reflected as clearly as any mirror. It was horribly garish, but the awed jaw drop on the skeleton’s as well as the other children’s faces when their parents shuffled them out of bed and into the bustling center of town made Sans feel...proud of himself.

Papyrus barely took a moment to hug Sans around his ribs before taking off with a sharp shout for Berry into the hustle and bustle of adults setting up tables of food and children screaming in excitement as they played with papier-mâché balls filled with confetti, throwing them around at their friends and shoving loose bits of colored paper down pants and shirts along with snow that clung to their mitts. That had been Ms. Faun’s creation and, based on the smug smile she had over at her half empty stall, her devious little plan had come to fruition in some form.

How funny, this event had been created to mourn the long and recent passing of their soldiers; but besides the wistful murmurs of the parents as they lamented the fact that their loved ones couldn’t see their kids or the living soldiers and guards who told stories at folded tables and benches about comrades long gone over homemade casseroles and drinks (alcohol being prohibited until after five, ofcorse), Sans couldn’t feel much tension in the air. It was a bright and cheery morning, the sort that Nightmare would cringe from and Dream revel upon walking into.

Or upon spotting apparently, if the gloved hand sneaking around his right arm and hooking around his elbow was any indication.

“Wow,” he breathed, watching with Sans, “You did all of this?”

“Pfft, me?” Sans waved his other hand at Dream, “Nah. This was all Papyrus’ idea, and the town was practically jumping at the chance to have a block party.”

As if to directly contradict him, BB rushed by with a fresh box of cold treats and slowed down just enough to shout a delighted, “SANS, YOU ARE THE BEST!” at the startled skeleton.

Dream smirked up at him, “You were saying, love?”

Sans blushed, “Shut up, can’t a guy be humble without the world conspiring against him?”

**“Not if it’s self-depreciation, he can’t.”**

Sans pouted down at his left, “Guess if you’re here then the boys are out?”

**“Yes.”** Nightmare nodded, **“They are well aware of the rules and the consequences should they break them, so we shouldn’t run into any problems.”** He tilted his head, watching the crowd moving around them, **“How strange...”**

Dream leaned forward to look at his brother around Sans’ chest, “I know right? It’s like a perfect balance of positive and negative emotions.” He glanced up at Sans, “Just what have you done here?”

Sans shrugged, “It’s Memorial Day; a day to mourn the fallen soldiers on the surface. I just adjusted it to the underground’s perspective a bit.”

**“You did a good job.”** Nightmare praised, crossing his arms. Sans grumbled and pouted at him more exaggeratively, trying to hide his pleased blush. His mate’s just giggled and smirked at him, those smug asses.

Sans sighed and scanned the crowd, “So have either of you two heard from Error or Reaper?”

The two went silent, and Sans got his answer.

“Not coming, huh?”

“Love, I’m sure they’re just late-“ Sans cut him off.

“It’s okay, Dream; these things happen. They just had a babybones, and everyone knows Error hates these sorts of things- I’d honestly be surprised if he did show up.” Even if he’d kinda been hoping his friend would atleast pop in to see his months of hard work and planning pay off for once.

A tendril wrapped around a clenched hand gently, **“I’ll eat his chocolate stash for you.”**

Sans cracked a smile, “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

**“Nope,”** Nightmare popped the p, **“Not a word.”**

Dream smiled, playing along, “I think the stress is finally getting to you. How about we grab ourselves a nice cream and take a seat?”

Sans caught sight of Grillby’s table and zeroed in on a fresh batch of chicken and dumplings, “Change of plans boys! Grillby’s got the goods!”

The two guardians graciously let him drag them along, the crowd unbothered by their presence in a way neither could expect anywhere else. In this moment, all parties were well and truly happy.

Sans would make sure to tell Error all about it later.


End file.
